Complicated
by The GryffinSlytherRavenPuff
Summary: The Pevensies: The oldest in the family is annoying, the second oldest is a know-it-all, the younger brother hates me and the youngest has an over-reactive imagination, she thinks that there's a magical world, in the upstairs wardrobe! Ed/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, so this is my first Narnia fic, ever. In the entire history of the world (and more specifically me) I have never written one. This is a big deal for me, and not really related to the story that is following the movies mainly. But there if here are scenes that occur in the books that don't in the movie, I might use them as well. So in total, it's like a mix. As much as I love the books, if I have to spend one more minute getting the phrases used (hey, I like to be exact), I will scream.**

**Either way, I don't own anything... Actually, no one from the books/ movies appears in this chapter so... I OWN EVERYTHING!**

* * *

><p>"No, Mum," I said for the millionth time, "I'm NOT going, I don't care if it's <em>dangerous<em> here, I refuse to be shifted off out of my home to some house in the country, _away _from all my friends, I'll be absolutely bored out of my brain and you _promised _me that we'd have fun this summer. Emphasis on _we_. How are we supposed to have a family outing if you're at home and I'm... not."

My mother sighed, this was an argument we'd had many times over in the past few weeks. It was World War II and London was being bombed. And I wasn't scared. I'm _not._ Other children might be, they're the ones running off to the country, abandoning their parents, being _selfish._ That's what I told myself everyday. I wasn't allowed to be selfish, I wasn't supposed to leave. My mother argued against my decision to stay heartily. She told me that she'd be fine on her own, that it was more important for me to be safe, and that she'd manage to run the house while I was gone, but I didn't believe a word of it. My father was away, fighting in the war of course, and left me in charge. That meant a lot, and it wasn't a responsibility that I was going to take lightly.

"_Please _Jane," my mother pleaded with me, her expression already showed that she was tired of this argument, "If not for me or Clarisse and Michael _or _yourself, then why not for your father. You know that he'd want you to be safe."

"Yeah, but he wouldn't spend weeks telling me to go if I didn't want to," I mumbled looking down. My mother was on to something and she knew it.

"You're right, he wouldn't just _tell _you to go, he'd drag you to that train and tie you to the seat if you didn't agree to go out of your own will." Mum argued.

I smothered a smile, Mum was right, that's exactly what Dad would've done. But that didn't change my mind, I still didn't want to go, and it was going to take a lot more convincing to get me to agree to board that hell machine.

"And think about it, Michael and Clarisse will need you far more than I will, not that you aren't a great help around the house, but the twins are only four." My mother continued making a better point each time she spoke.

"But, I do so much around here, how are you going to cope without me?" I asked feebly, over exaggerating the importance of my presence in the house more than a little.

"It _is _just cleaning, Jane. And your cooking... Well, I think that I'll survive without it for a small while," Mum smiled at the end. We both knew how atrocious my cooking skills were.

I sighed, I was nearing defeat and Mum knew it. "I guess... I could... Maybe... go." I announced after a long silence, hesitantly saying each word.

Mum smiled as I said those few simple words so I continued hurriedly, "But that's a _maybe,_ okay. I'll think about it over night and I _might _go with Mikey and Clary on the train tomorrow. But I might not." I added quickly on the end, as I saw my mother's smile turn into a vicious, victorious grin.

My mother sighed but smiled none-the-less. "Okay then. That's better than screaming that you'd chain yourself to the bed and wait for the bombs to hit rather than go, as you were a couple of days ago." I smiled sheepishly remembering my little tantrum that I'd had.

I was the only one in the family with a short temper. Well, me and Dad, I inherited it from him. My younger sister and brother were both usually calm and were loathe to scream unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately for me, their idea of necessary was finding me stealing a small cookie from the cookie jar.

Clarisse and Michael Ryans were born with my mother's eyes and their fathers face. Whilst Clarisse (the older of the twins) was the female version of Dad, Michael could've been _Dad's_ twin from some of the old pictures I'd seen. They both inherited Dad's light brown hair, tall height (I could already tell that they'd soon tower over me), his calm (and deceiving) outside appearance, with Mum's peaceful personality and striking blue eyes.

I, Jane Katherine Ryans, was the spitting image of my mother with fiery red hair (and a temper to match) which I'd been told would turn an auburn colour as I grew older like Mum's had, if I left my hair unbrushed so it knotted (a pain to later try and comb through) I looked like a mad person,and I unfortunately short, doomed too be never appear the same height as my friends unless they crouched or i stood on tippitoes. The only outward gene that I'd gotten from my father was his startling grey eyes that at a certain light looked silver. Inside though, I was him. We had the same inability to stay in an awkward silence, laughed at the slightest things that mainly weren't funny, the same shocking temper and we both shared the ability to hold a rather large grudge.

"Janey," I heard someone call my name. I turned around almost instantly. Only two people were allowed to call me that.

"Hey Clary," I greeted my little sister.

She smiled nervously, twirling her long hair in her fingers. "Well... Mikey and I have a question for you..." She started reluctantly, getting that nervous look that she always did when she had a request that she was very much afraid would be turned down.

"Yes Clary?" I asked kindly.

"Well, we were wondering if you were... maybe, coming with us when we leave tomorrow," she trailed off at the end, looking down to the floor.

"Umm..." I muttered, quickly thinking of something to say, "Maybe, I'll tell you in the morning alright. Do you want me to help you pack?"

Clary's face brightened considerably, "Yes _please_, Janey," she beamed.

I laughed at her reaction and allowed myself to be pulled down the thin hallway into an extremely messy room.

"Okay," I announced still smiling, "First things first. You can't take _all _these with you."

I was indicating to the numerous dolls that covered the floor and bed, except for halfway through where the floor was strangely clean, and the bed opposite the bright pink one was made up perfectly with a small suitcase on top of some dark blue sheets, the neater side belonging to Michael.

Clarisse pouted. "But, Janey, I simply _need _to take them. I'll be absolutely bored otherwise."

"I'm sure you don't need every single toy, just pick one," I reasoned with her.

"NO! I can't take _just _one toy! That would mean leaving Joshua or Lionel behind, and you know that I can't do that," Clary cried outraged.

Joshua and Lionel were Clarisse's favourite toys. _Best friends_ as she often called them. Joshua, a mangy old bear with one missing ear and disgusting, matted white fur, had been given to Clarisse a couple of days after she'd been born. Lionel, on the other hand, was fairly new. She'd only been given him a couple of weeks ago and, being the newest toy, he was the current favourite. I personally favoured Lionel to Joshua, purely on looks alone. For one, the bright pink lion hadn't yet been left outside when it rained, the meaning of that being, it didn't smell like a wet dog.

"Well then take both of them, but only those two," I negotiated.

Clarisse must've been able to tell that my deal was the best she could get so after a moment of silence she reluctantly nodded.

I grinned, "Right then, that wasn't so hard. Now, about clothes, how much have you packed already?"

Clarisse smiled sheepishly, "About my clothes..."

"If we throw in some things quickly, Mum won't suspect anything," I grinned.

Clarisse laughed, clearly relieved that this was me she was talking to, as she most certainly would've been scolded severely for her lack of organisation.

"Okay," I said after hours of quietly searching through her wardrobe for some clothes and sharing some quiet jokes, in a feeble attempt to fill an ugly, chunky brown suitcase, which I assumed that Clary could fit into if she tried, I pulled out a large coat that was obviously to big for her. It was probably one of mine or Mum's old ones. "What about this? I know that it's a bit big, but it's the only one that I can find, and I'm sure that it'll get cold at some point-"

I was cut off by an ear splitting shriek that seemed to echo around the room, bouncing off walls in a never ending cycle. And just like that the peace was broken.

"JANEY!" Clarisse screamed, covering her ears.

It took me a minute to shake my head clear of the shock and sheer terror that had gripped my mind. I grabbed Clary's hand and pulled her down the hallway, much like she'd done with me earlier that day, at an extremely fast pace. I pushed her through the door into the kitchen where Michael was gripping Mum's hand fearfully shaking it, trying to get her out of the daze she was currently in. I snapped back into action and pulled Clarisse's twin away from Mum and pulled them both out the door, and started sprinting to the bomb shelter that lay previously untouched underground in out back yard.

Unlocking the door at an intense speed, I pushed my younger siblings inside telling them to stay put, very much thankful when they nodded, and raced back to the house.

"MUM!" I screamed, as I slammed the door open to find her in the exact same place that I'd left her in. Leaning against the bench, unmoving she looked like a mannequin, her eyes glassy, staring at the wall as if it was all that mattered in the world. "Mum, for God's sake, GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF!"

There was no reply. I gripped her arm and pulled with all my might. "Mum, please. Move." I begged, tears were streaming down my face. I could hear the planes now, we couldn't stay here forever.

"Mum..." I sobbed, trailing off at the end as I found myself lost for words. There was nothing else I could do.

Though by some miracle, she heard my plea and her eyes snapped back into focus. And all that mattered to me at the moment was the feeling of her tight grip on my hand as she pulled me with a fast speed outside and into the bomb shelter, slamming the door shut. A resounding boom, echoed and I covered my ears, trying to stop the ringing that was playing. The sound could've been the door shutting, but as much as I hated the idea, something else would've had to go off in order to make a sound that loud. I looked over to see Clary and Michael hugging Mum, already forgiving her for her earlier space out.

"Ummm, Mum?" I said reluctantly getting her attention, "I think that it would be best if I went to the country tomorrow."

Mum smiled shakily, "I'm glad you changed your mind." Was all she said.

I laid my head back on my pillow and tried to go to sleep. It was hard, mind you, whenever I closed my eyes all I could see was the ruins of our house: The once glistening white walls now covered in black ash and burn marks, barley standing, a large chunk of the house missing, almost as if some one had taken a large bite out of it, and only the frame of the remaining part of the house was visible. It was horrific, but much preferred to my other vision of absolute nothingness. No house, no trace that anyone had ever lived there aside from a large mound of ash on the ground.

By the time I'd managed to banish these images from my mind and drift off to sleep, another bomb had hit, waking me almost instantly and resurrecting the terrible pictures. So in the end, I'd decided to stay awake. I'd sleep on the train tomorrow.

And that was when it hit me. A horrible, terrible, annoying, infuriating thought that made me want to scream.

The suitcase. That stupid, stupid, _stupid, _suitcase that Clary and I spent hours packing was gone. All of that time _wasted! _I didn't know who I was angrier with... No one really, it was my fault the bag was gone, so I was the only person who I _could _blame.

That was what I went to sleep to, debating in my mind who was more to blame for my wasted time. And in the end I woke up after a magnificent sleep spent dreaming peaceful, enjoyable dreams about strangling a large brown suitcase.

* * *

><p><strong>So, that's the first chapter up. If you could tell me what you think, it would be <strong>_**greatly **_**appreciated... *End of little authors note that I put at the end of all my stories that beg you to review.***


	2. Chapter 2

**Right so here's the second chapter, it's shorter than the first one, but the next one will be longer... I hope. Thanks to everyone who alerted/ favourited the story, and a special thanks to ****HPAllTheWayDudette**** who reviewed.**** I don't own the Chronicles of Narnia, I wish I did, but I don't.**

"I changed my mind, I don't want to go anymore," I told Mum matter-of-a-factly.

She ignored me, it wasn't the first time that I'd told her I didn't want to leave. I'd announced it multiple times in the morning, all of which I'd been ignored, told off or persuaded to go. But now was different, before I'd only been unsure about how Mum would cope without me, how Michael and Clarisse would feel about the change, how I would like it, only small things. Now, I was convinced that Mum would slowly break down, that Michael and Clarisse would be devastated away from Mum, and that I would have the worst experience of my life.

"Stop fiddling with that tag, Clarisse. You're not supposed to take it off," My mother scolded Clary who was pulling at the strings of the paper tag that we'd tied to one of the sleeves on her coat.

"But... It's annoying Mummy," Clary mumbled, any excitement that she'd previously felt about leaving had vanished entirely, leaving her quite silent and gloomy. Michael, however, seemed rather eager and happy for the new experience and at least attempted to shed some light on the gloomy feeling that had gripped our family.

I moved my gaze away from my family to the trains that were going to take us away and the other families at the station, all of which seemed to be in the same good-bye scene that we were. I wasn't surprised to find that not one of the children looked happy.

I was wrenched from my thoughts as my mother enveloped me in a bone crushing embrace.

"Mum..." I muttered slightly embarrassed, though I returned the hug.

"Mum." I tried again, pulling away slightly. I ignored the hurt look on her face, and nodded towards the conductors who signalling for the children to get on the train.

Mum nodded briefly before turning around to Mikey and Clary, both of whom were certainly feeling worse than they had a couple of minutes ago. As Mum wrapped them both in another hug, even Michael seemed sad about leaving. Of course that meant Clarisse was distraught.

"Mummy," I heard her mumble into Mums shoulder, gripping it as tightly as she could between her little fingers, "I don't want to go anymore. Please, don't make me."

I could've sworn that I saw tears begin to form in Mum's eyes, "I know Sweetie, but you have to. I don't want you to go either-"

"Then don't make me." Clary cut her off.

This made Mum smile slightly before continuing, "But I'll write."

"I can't read." I Clary argued stubbornly.

Mum was grinning now, despite the tears that were falling freely from her eyes as she continued to hug Clarisse, holding her closer than ever, "You'll learn."

"But, Mummy, I might not! Readings REALLY hard, I might not be smart enough," Clary persisted, her voice was slightly more even, but it still held that waver at the end, the one that people had after they just finished crying.

This time Mum pulled away from Clary to look her straight in the eye, "You are smart enough, don't worry about that, I'd be willing to bet that you're smarter than Jane," She added the last part throwing a cheeky smile in my direction.

"HEY!" I protested, "I heard that!"

Clary giggled and then stopped, realising that she was supposed to act sad and miserable in order to get what she wanted, the way most small children act sad and scared in order to sleep in their parents bed.

Then Mum turned to Michael, holding him at arms length to study his appearance, making sure that he didn't look as though he'd just been dragged through a barn. Though after a few seconds she broke her resolve to keep a straight face and crushed him to her, and began sobbing.

"It's okay Mum," Mikey attempted to comfort her by wrapping his arms around her shaking frame, "We'll be alright," he soothed, speaking those oddly comforting words that children say that they think will miraculously make everything better.

"I know, I know, I'll just miss you is all, I love you, don't forget that," she told him, kissing his forehead, before releasing him so she could do the same with me and Clarisse.

"Come on," I muttered taking Clarisse and Michael's hands and began pulling them toward the train, "We'll go find a compartment."

"Okay," Clarisse mumbled, trying to sound more eager, but I could feel her turning around trying to get back to Mum, her small head craning to get a better look as she lost sight of her in the sea of parents that had begun to crowd the train, and even going as far as to try and peer through each window in all of the compartments we passed in our search for an empty one.

"Here's one!" Michael announced, ripping his hand away from mine to get into the compartment first.

"Hey, no fair! I wanted the window seat!" Clarisse whined when she realised where Michael sat on the seats.

I scoffed, "You do realise that there are _two _window seats, right? And by the way, I am not carrying these in for you," I nudged the small suitcases that Mum and I had managed to find to compensate for the lost ones. In the twins rush to get their seats they'd both skilfully manage to drop the surprisingly heavy bags on my feet.

Clarisse giggled while Michael looked away sheepishly, "Sorry Janey," she told me.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I muttered while picking up their luggage before someone tripped over it and entered the compartment and ended up falling over as the train started to move with a sudden jolt.

I picked myself up off the floor and moved to the window which Michael and Clarisse were leaning so far out of in order to wave goodbye to Mum that I was half worried that they would fall out. "Bye Mummy, I love you!" Clarisse screamed louder than most kids. Before moving away from the window and turning to me, "I don't want to go," She repeated her earlier words to me as if I would magically stop the train, just so she could get out.

"I know, Clary, but it won't be for very long. Before you know it we'll be going home." I soothed as I saw the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes.

"But, Janey, I want to go home _now, _I changed my mind," She sobbed as I pulled her into a tight hug.

I could feel her shaking as she cried harder into my shoulder and muttered soothing words as I'd seen Mum do. Although, I wasn't very good at it, so they were mainly incoherent whispers, but Clarisse didn't care.

By the time Clary finally managed to calm the sobs that were racketing through her body, it was her stop. With a small nudge from me she managed to get off the train.

"Aren't you coming, Janey?" She asked me, her eyes wide and scared.

I nodded, "'Course, Clary. I'm just getting my luggage. You go over there and wait. Someone should come for you and Mikey soon. I'll be out in a minute."

Clary's face showed that she was still uncertain, terrified and on the verge of throwing an extremely large tantrum, but she nodded and her eyes followed me as I went back onto the train and out of her sight.

When I returned to the now empty compartment, I sat down on the seat, took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them I became aware of the sickening feeling that came with the movement of the train. A lay back down, closing my eyes and tried to go to sleep. Quickly. But it wasn't quick enough. I soon heard the screams of: "JANEY! JANEY! DON'T LEAVE ME! JANEY!" That came with the train's departure from the station.

I doubted that any of the other passengers heard my sister's screams other than I. And those same words kept playing over and over in my head through out the entire ride.

Michael knew that I wasn't going to the same house as he and Clary. He was the only one that I told, being more 'mature', as Mum often put it, he didn't cry about it, and promised me solemnly that he'd look after Clarisse, the tone strangely similar to mine when I'd promised Dad that I would look after everyone else. I smiled bitterly. Well that had turned out _great._

**This is where the chapter ends. Next chapter, the Pevensies will appear, I promise. And I'm very sorry that this chapter isn't longer, I probably could've added what would be in the next chapter but that would just make it **_**overly **_**long and annoying, that and I'm lazy. I also tend to procrastinate a lot. Like right now, I should probably be writing a story for English as I'm supposed to have written five short stories by next Friday but instead I'm writing this. You want another example? Well I would normally beg you all to review but instead I'm wasting 90 or so words on random stuff. But I'll ask you now. Review please.**


End file.
